Evidence to the Contrary
by sesskag87
Summary: "I believe in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary...we will all be okay."


My newest creation.

* * *

Draco sat and stared out the window of the moving train. His mind was reeling with simplistic ideas of murder. So many ways to kill somebody, so many things he could do. The noise around him disappeared when his mind drew him back to the events over the summer.

_His mother was fiddling with his coat, her long lashes dripping tears. "Draco, you must do this."_

_Lucius Malfoy was no longer a presence in their house, having been thrown in Azkaban a few weeks prior. _

_Her hands shook as she snapped the buttons of his frock together. _

_Draco glanced at his left forearm, knowing what now lay there. The process of getting the damn thing was horrendous. He had not wanted it. He had never wanted to join the cause of killing mudbloods, and blood traitors, even though the thought disgusted him. Deep down, Draco Malfoy knew he was no assassin._

_Narcissus was rambling now; she tried to throw brightness into her tone, telling him he should try and court Pansy Parkinson. _

_He didn't want to make eye contact with her, in fear of falling apart. _

_Would she hate him if he told her he couldn't do it?_

_When she realized that he would not answer her, she dropped her hands and fisted them tightly in front of her. She hung her head and sobbed silently, "I've turned my only son into a monster."_

_The room was thick with tension, resentment, and ire. _

_Draco didn't know how to comfort his mother. He wanted to embrace her, to tell her she had nothing to worry about. But, he couldn't. _

"_I'm going to be late for the train." He whispered to her. _

The image flew away as the breaks on the train slammed him out of his thoughts.

They had arrived.

Draco descended off the train into the crowd of children and teenagers. His luggage weighed him down, but he didn't have the patience to wait for a cart to throw it on.

His friends called his name, but he kept walking, pretending not to hear them.

The great hall was jammed full of excited children in their first years, trying to find some place to sit down. Draco narrowed his eyes at everybody, feeling extreme disdain for the chipper patrons in the room.

* * *

Hermione entered the great hall, after being prodded, pushed and shoved along the way. How many children had joined Hogwarts this year?

It was so exciting though! She remembered what it was like to be in first year, and absolutely starved for knowledge of the magical world.

Hermione frowned slightly as she watched the people getting their prefects badges. She had turned down the opportunity over the summer, knowing she had to study hard for a million tests, and her N.E.W.T.S. They were way more important than patrolling the corridors for hormonal teenagers at night.

Harry and Ron siphoned through the crowd, accidentally running into some children.

"Bloody hell Harry, where did all the children come from?"

Harry smirked, "Well Ron, if I would guess, probably their mothers."

His friend smiled and elbowed him, "Very funny, we lost Hermione way back there though. You think she's gotten us seats? At this rate, we'll probably have to stand."

Hermione waved her friends over, and they gleefully ran to her, almost knocking some poor child over in the process.

"Watch where you're going Ronald." She scolded when he sat down.

He smiled at her, and ruffled her brown locks.

Over the summer, she and Ron had discussed a possible relationship between both of them, but they decided that it was probably best if they remained friends. Hermione was extremely upset when he told her that, but she finally agreed with him.

The thought still stung.

Draco plopped himself down at the end of the table, away from annoying questions, and prying eyes.

Pansy Parkinson to be exact, she was like 20 questions all in herself. He hoped he didn't unintentionally kill _her _this year.

The headmaster waited for the excitement to quiet down, before he raised his hands and in a commanding voice ordered silence throughout the room.

Every mouth shut, and every ear listened.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I am pleased to welcome the new and old faces joining us back here!"

The room clapped, and the first years couldn't get rid of their ear-splitting grins.

Formalities were introduced as he went down the long rows of teachers and rules. The threat still remained with the staircases and the forbidden forest.

Some of the children drew a small gasp when he told stories of deaths because of children not listening to the rules.

Very effective.

Then, he raised his hands again. Suddenly, he placed a very grim expression over his features. His forehead wrinkled, and the twinkle in his eyes extinguished.

The sight made Hermione squirm in her seat, she glanced back at Harry and his expression mirrored Dumbledore's.

"These are perilous times students, and we all know what and _who _I'm referring to."

The students whispered, some didn't move but continued to stare at Dumbledore, waiting for him to continue.

"For those who do not know, I am speaking of Voldemort."

Hermione watched as everyone tensed around her. Some clapped their hands over their ears, as if to shut those powerful words out.

Draco glared up at the old man, as the Slytherins around him beamed at the subject.

Stupid fools.

"These are dark times students. But, in these dark times, we must discover ourselves. We must discern between who we are, and what is right, and what is easy."

Draco felt his hand squeeze into a fist. The words having the opposite effect on him. They didn't want him to reevaluate himself; they made him want to slam his head against the wall. He had grown tired of the old man's philosophical spirit in third year.

Hermione drifted her eyes back to Harry, who was now staring at Draco. His eyes narrowed at the blonde, who was glaring at the professor.

Hermione understood the tension there; over the summer Harry was on a tirade that Draco was now a death eater. The entire thing seemed completely ridiculous to her. Why would Draco be a death eater? Because his father was one?

Well, he was in Azkaban now, even Draco could see that following in his father's footsteps, probably was not the best course.

A biting feeling always stabbed at her though, when she looked at Malfoy. Something niggled in her mind, something was wrong with him this year.

He didn't look different. He still wore his black, depressing suit. His hair was still perfect. And yet, his eyes looked hollow, almost sunken in. Due from lack of sleep most likely.

She raised her eyebrow, as he tucked his chin into his hand.

That little something was still causing her discomfort though.

She turned her back to the man, and caught the last of her friend's conversation.

"Stupid git, sitting there like he's so much better than everyone else." Ron fumed.

"He isn't by his goons for some reason." Harry added in.

Hermione however, didn't even catch that little fact as she turned again to look at the blonde.

She decided something; she would squish this little voice that was now screaming at her in her mind.

Hermione was going to see if there was _really _something wrong with him, but she would not tell her friends. They would make a big spectacle of her little motive, and they wouldn't care.

She wrung her hands together, glancing at her friends in worry. What if they caught her? How would she explain? Oh, I'm sorry Harry, I just had this weird feeling, and decided that I should spy on him, to see if I could catch him doing something mischievous, or out of the ordinary.

No, she would keep this to herself. Harry had enough to worry about; she didn't want to add on to his misery.

* * *

All of the students scurried out of the great hall, following their prefects.

Hermione lost sight of Harry and Ron quickly after they departed their seats. She looked around to see if she could find any of her friends in the crowd, she could not.

She did catch sight of somebody though.

Draco Malfoy disappearing on his own, down a corridor.

That nagging feeling came back. She bit her lip and looked around again. She ran to the shadows and placed a concealment charm on herself, it would hold for at least 20 minutes. That's all the time she needed.

Draco's mind was reeling; he had tuned out most of the nights festivities. He gripped the inside of his pockets in irritation. He hadn't decided on any course to take, on taking care of his task.

Hermione stuck to the wall, making sure to hit any crevice, encase her concealment charm wore off. He hadn't done anything suspicious, she almost turned around when suddenly, he punched the wall opposite him, and slid down to his knees, leaning his forehead against the stone.

She flinched when his fist struck the gravel. He must have broken a finger with that force. She stayed rooted to her spot, her hand clapped over her mouth in shock.

He stayed that way for a few moments, and stood back up, patting and smoothing down his clothes.

Hermione didn't follow him when he continued on his way. She had seen enough for the night.

Walking to the Gryffindor tower, her mind was full of questions. But mostly of the scenario that just played out before her. Why had he done that? Because of what happened to his father?

She didn't know, by the time she got to the common room, the lights were being turned down.

She climbed to her room, and sat down on her bed.

The girls had all laid down, some sleeping, other's writing in diaries, and other's talking.

Hermione pulled her journal out of her trunk, scribbling down what had just happened, she would make a habit of writing down what she saw. And _if _she found out anything problematic, she would tell Harry.

The scene that she saw haunted her for the rest of the night. His hand must hurt terribly.

Maybe it was just his father.

Yes, his father. Hermione then closed her eyes, welcoming the abyss, and unplanned dreams.

* * *

Now, I wrote this on a whim. Tell me how you feel, and what you think.

*Heather*


End file.
